


Penance

by pecanroll69



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, Priest Kink, Religion, Spanking, blowjob, catholocism, priest rick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pecanroll69/pseuds/pecanroll69
Summary: you've taken an interest in priest rick and try to seduce him. it works.





	1. Our Fathers, Who Art a Sinner

You hadn’t been a practicing Catholic for a long time. You went occasionally because there was something mystically beautiful about the altars, the stained glass, the polished wood of the pews that drew you in. You’d been having a hard time going through life and, although you didn’t believe in God, you liked the comfort of praying with a congregation, of singing songs that have been sung for hundreds of years.

The priest that often lead Mass was a man named Rick Sanchez. He looked tall, grave, and had a gravelly voice that did sinful things to you when he read the Gospel; reciting holy words about divine retribution in that deep, threatening voice should be a sin itself.

Likewise, Father Rick thought your presence in the church was anomalous. You always wore a black velvet dress that was modest in length, but tight around your breasts and hips, teasing him with that little waist. Instead of receiving Communion with your hands like you did with the other priests who presented it, you stuck your tongue out when Father Rick was there, waiting for him to place the small wafer in your mouth for you. This was not abnormal behavior and many churchgoers did it, but there was something about your painted red lips and your wet mouth that angered him every time he had to hand feed you the Body of Christ. When you drank the wine, he could’ve sworn you looked at him while you licked it off your lips.

Your budding attraction for the holy man was obviously foolish, considering he had taken a vow of celibacy and dedicated himself to God. That didn’t stop you from getting wet when he fed you the Eucharist and his finger lingered on your tongue a second longer than it should have, or when you were kneeling in prayer and he looked down on you with those cold eyes.  
Nor did it stop him from jerking off to the thought of pushing up the soft velvet of your dress before mercilessly fucking you.

When the opportunity to go to confession with Father Rick presented itself, you found it hard to resist the prospect of being in close quarters with him, the two of you alone in a room together, he your sole confidant.

And so there you were, nervous about your hopeless endeavor but determined to see him break his holy facade. Instead of the regular confessional, you are directed into the chapel where a partition marks off the site of confession. You walk into the enclosed space and are surprised to see Father Rick sitting down in a chair in front of you, no screens between you to hide you as you confess your sins, only the partition to separate you from the rest of the world. His physical presence both intimidates and excites you, his eyes following you as you sit down in front of him.  
You lower your eyes and make the sign of the cross, your fingers lingering on your breasts seductively.  
“Father, I’ve had some unholy thoughts,” you said, voice low and rife with guilt.  
“Yes, my child? W-what are they?”  
His voice sounds eager. You think you see a flash in the priest’s eyes, a slight twitch of the mouth, but it’s gone in an instant.  
You finger the hem of your dress and avoid his dark eyes boring into you.  
“I just have these persistent thoughts about doing lecherous and unacceptable things.”

Although you expected a cold, uncaring response at the least and a slightly embarrassed response at the most, Father Rick smiles gently and leans ever so slightly towards you.  
“My dear, y-you know that’s forgivable. I hear about that, about stuff like that all the time.”  
Dammit. Your face reddens; you hadn’t thought about that. Of course he gets shit like this all the time.  
“Thank you, Father. I appreciate —”  
He cuts you off with a low laugh, his smile growing, a hint of malice behind it.  
“Many people have lecherous thoughts, but not many people try to seduce a priest.”

You froze. Fuck. He knew what you were doing. You were never in control after all.  
“I-I don’t know what you’re taking about, I really just…” You stumble over your words, looking for an explanation so you can regain your composure and escape the shame he is surely about to make you feel. His knowing smile disappears and his face becomes serious. 

“Lying is a sin, m-my dear.”

You stare at him, mouth agape and unsure of what to do. His serious demeanor shifts back to the gentle and calm priest as he gets up from his chair and circles you like a lion playing with its prey before slaughtering it. 

“Sins are forgiveable but you must first…” He’s now right in front of you, looking down with a seductive grin.  
“Confess.”

His eyes are locked with yours and you open your mouth to admit to the lewd thoughts you have about the man standing right in front of you. Instead, you falter and look away. He slides his long, slender fingers down the side of your face, and then abruptly pulls your face to look at his again.

“Little girl, the sooner you confess the s-sooner we can end this song and dance.”

You make a pleading expression which only pleases him more as he waits for your confession of embarrassing sins.

“Oh, Father, it’s so shameful,” you pause to lick your lips and absentmindedly caress your collarbone. He says nothing, just standing before you expectantly.

 

“I imagine you and I fucking.”  
God it turned him on to hear you say ‘fuck’ in a church. It wasn’t enough for you to dress and act seductively, oh no; you had to say irreverent words in the House of God without batting an eye.

“I-I-is that so?” The smirking old man sat back down in his chair and opened his legs, patting his lap suggestively.

Who were you to disobey? You nervously sit down on his thigh as he snakes an arm around your waist, drawing light circles on your hips with those beautiful fingers. His other hand goes to your neck, caressing it gently. He leans into your ear and whispers, "Tell me more, there has- there must be more."

You feel his cock harden against your ass as you squirm on his lap in embarrassment. "I imagine you fucking me on the altar. I imagine you saying blasphemous things, calling yourself a god and demanding I worship you." He smirks, satisfied with how you debased yourself for his pleasure.

“It’s time to repent, s-sweetheart.”

He swiftly moves his hand from your neck to your hair and pulls your head back, meeting your eyes with cold intensity, his voice a deep growl. “Bend over my knees, and-and don’t expect me to be gentle.”

You do as you’re told and he slides the black dress up right above your naked ass. He raises his eyebrow and lets out a sinister laugh. “Y-you really were ready for this huh, slut? Not even w-wearing underwear.”  
Both of his large hands massage your ass, and you become aware of the size of the now full erection he's sporting beneath his pants. You’re really enjoying his greedy hands when suddenly one hand comes crashing down on your ass, forcing you to let out a high pitched moan. Almost as soon as his hand is lifted away from your ass, it comes back down again even harder. You whine at the sting on your ass and the warmth of all the blood rushing to where he slapped you. He continues this process until you’re almost in tears and you ask him to stop. “Oh, little lamb, y-y-you don't sound like you really want forgiveness from God.”

He motions for you to get up from his lap and points between his legs. You kneel down in front of him, something you’d imagined doing every time you kneeled down during Mass and heard his voice.  
He pulls his cock out of his pants and, amazed at the size of this supposedly celibate man, you begin to lick it from base to tip, savoring this fantasy-turned-reality. He looks down at you, biting his lip and obviously wanting more. You decide to tease him for a bit and enjoy your brief position of power, licking slowly up his cock until you get to the head. You swirl your tongue around it, eliciting a moan from the man above you. Not willing to let you play with him like this, he grabs your hair in one hand and your jaw in the other, positioning you so he can shove his cock in your mouth. "N-not gonna just let you be a little, a little cocktease, sweetheart," he says with a laugh. You gag when his dick presses up against the back of your throat, eyes watering and looking up at him desperately. His amusement at your distress only turns you on more. He fucks your face for awhile before finally taking his cock out of your mouth and pulling you up to a standing position.

“Is this, is this all you dreamt about?” His hand runs gently across your stomach, down to your soaking wet pussy. “O-or did you want more from me?” 

He rubs circles around your clit, occasionally shoving a finger inside you and reveling in your moans. Through the overwhelming pleasure, you manage to choke out a plea.

“Father Rick, c-can you make me cum?”

His dexterous fingers immediately work your clit even faster and better, getting you close to orgasm. “I want you to cum for me, w-whore.”

His talented fingers work in tandem with his degrading words to bring you to orgasm, shaking and moaning as he holds you by the waist to keep you upright, letting you grind against his hand while you ride out your climax. You’re panting at this point, and this asshole, cock still hard, simply looks amused.

Without a word, he stuffs his cock back into his pants and sits back down.

“I want you to say 3 'Hail Marys’ and 5 'Our Fathers’ as penance.”


	2. Upon the Altar

After your first time receiving penance from Father Rick, you wanted more. You weren’t satisfied with it being a one time thing. The hems of your dresses got shorter and shorter it seemed to him as you visited the church more frequently, staying in the chapel to hopefully catch him alone sometime.

Only the devout and the depraved came to the chapel at this time of night. You came here every Sunday, if only for a little bit. You figured at some point he would have to notice you and do something. You weren’t sure what you expected of him, but you wanted him to do something.

Anything.

One such night as you pretended to pray, the haunting silence was broken by the sound of footsteps. You held your breath in anticipation as he kneeled down next to you. You glanced at him in your peripherals, but he didn’t glance back. The candlelight reflected on the priests face, giving him a sinister look. The small distance between the two of you was infuriating. You could smell him; wine and cigarettes and incense mingling together in an unusual but pleasant perfume.

You prayed to God he would acknowledge you.

As always, though, your prayers went unanswered. You left shortly after he did, flustered and frustrated. Nonetheless, you persisted with your regular routine the next week. As you pretended to pray, you realized you had been kneeling more in the past few weeks than you ever had in your life.

“Back again?”

You turned around to the doorway of the chapel. There stood the tall, thin figure of Father Rick. He dipped two of his slender fingers in the holy water by the door and did the sign of the cross. He then licked the holy water off of his fingers, eyes boring into you. There was something delightfully sinful about it that made your face hot and the place between your thighs even hotter.

“Y-you’re here an awful lot for, for someone who doesn’t believe in God.”

He approached your kneeling form, a hint of predatory hunger on his dimly lit features. You weren’t sure how to respond; he had called you out and you both knew it.

“I’m just trying to be better.”

Your excuse was pathetic and you knew it. The corner of his mouth twitched at your attempt at innocence. He stood in front of you now, looking down on your kneeling figure, practically a giant before you. A hand reached out and stroked your hair gently, sweetly.

“Of course, my child. Forgiveness is, is always — everyone who repents is forgiven.”

The gentle words and his relaxed features caught you off guard, making you melt a little as he touched your head. Naturally, you weren’t prepared for when he grabbed you by the hair and forced your face onto his thighs, right beside the bulge in his pants.

“Y-you’re not really looking for forgiveness though, are you?”

His aggression made you even wetter, and you accidentally moaned in response to the roughness. It drove you nuts the way he saw through your facade, the way he teased and played games with you. Truthfully, he loved it just as much: seeing your sweet eyes looking up at him, confused and desperate for his attention. You thought you were subtle but he knew, of course. He knew more about your desires than perhaps even you did and that thrilled both of you.

Still holding your head close to his crotch, he started to undo his pants with the other hand. You licked your lips and looked eagerly up at him as he pulled his cock out. You almost forgot how big it was. He rubbed it against your cheek and you felt his precum smearing across your face. You wanted him to use you, but you still wanted to try your best to seem repentant. As he pressed his cock up against your lips, you kept your mouth firmly closed and shook your head.

“Oh, I-I see what you’re doing. Trying to be a good Catholic tonight? Even though you came here because y-y-you couldn’t get enough of me?”

You smiled and nodded. He stroked your cheek and smiled in return, the priestly gentleness evident on his features again. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, your aching knees on the cold hard floor juxtaposing your warm pussy aching for Father Rick’s cock. The moment ended as soon as he lifted his hand from your face and smacked you hard. You moaned instinctively, betraying your penitent posture and opening your mouth long enough for him to shove himself inside.

He thrust hard into your mouth, not giving you any time to get used to his size. You gagged, eyes watering as his cock hit the back of your throat. Your mouth was a gift by itself, but watching you choke on his cock was the icing on the cake. He groaned and pressed on, pulling your hair to elicit more pitiful expressions. The facefucking continued until he suddenly pushed your head off his cock and pulled you onto your feet.

He kissed you roughly, shoving his tongue in your mouth and exploring it. You were his and he was going to be thorough with you this time, touching every part of you that he wanted, when he wanted. He walked you over to the altar, still kissing you and grabbing your ass.

You looked beautiful there, surrounded by candle light and stained glass and polished wood. Fucking you right there, he thought, would be sacramental. Ritualistic. You were ready to give him everything you had, to worship him like the all-powerful God you knew he was.

You got on your hands and knees for him on that altar, and he pushed your dress up to kiss your back, reaching his hands around to fondle your tits. His long thin fingers rubbed circles around your nipples and gave them the occasional pinch. You could tell he was a man with experience, which didn’t surprise you seeing as he wasn’t all that committed to celibacy.

“I’ve waited weeks for this, sweetheart. I-I’m gonna skip out on some of that foreplay cause I just, really just need your pussy right now.”

He pushed your face down onto the chilly wood of the altar as he rubbed his cock up against your entrance, lubricating it with your wetness. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine the look of release as he pushed his way inside of you and moaned. He wasted no time and began with hard, fast thrusts.

“This is, this is what you get, w-whore. I’ve had to jack off all alone every fucking day I see you.”

He smacked your ass and kissed your neck, alternating between sucks and hard bites. In his eagerness he drew blood, and the taste of iron only turned him on more. You panted and moaned as he continued to inflict pain on you, delighting in his vigor for punishment. His moans were animalistic, full of raw pleasure as he caressed you and fucked you and put you in your place.

“Your ass looks so good bouncing up against my hips like that, honey. You-you like this old man’s cock? You like being fucked open by an old priest?”

“Yes daddy!”

He stopped his thrusts and grabbed your throat with one hand, the other hand poised to smack you. “W-what did you just say, you stupid little slut?”

You flinched and he smirked in response, cock twitching inside you.

“Y-yes daddy…”

He grunted and thrusted into you harder, scratching your back while his grip on your hips tightened. "Good girl"

Father Rick took a perverse pleasure from being called ‘daddy,’ more than he cared to admit. He loved that you were a moaning mess with him, that you were willing to spend hours in the house of worship for a God you didn’t even believe in. Because you both knew he was the God you believed in. You both knew you were his, all his, a humble servant.

Rick felt his orgasm building up inside of him and he pulled his cock out, flipping you over onto your back. He straddled your chest and, jerking himself off in front of you, cumming all over your face and open mouth. It felt like some sort of bastardized baptism and you loved it. Your pussy ached without him inside it, but you knew from the beginning of the night he was here to please himself and only himself. He ripped the cloth off of the altar to clean the mess he made and mumbled something about washing it eventually. A perfectly debauched end to a perfectly debauched night. You licked the remaining cum off of his cock and looked up at him with your innocent eyes and cum-covered face. 

“Am I forgiven yet, father?”

He smirked and raised half of his single eyebrow.

“No way in Hell, sweetheart.”


End file.
